Glitter Bombs
by Grey Foxes
Summary: It's a tradition of Crowley's to unwrap Aziraphale's presents to him before he wakes up. Aziraphale decides to get his own back. Sam and Bobby aren't amused. (witness protection)


**YES I BOOBY TRAPPED THE PRESENTS BECAUSE YOU DO THIS EVERY FUCKING YEAR (christmas au)**

 _inspired by tumblr_

 _witness protection (CANON for verse)_

* * *

Crowley broke into Aziraphale's bookshop at half-past four in the morning, on Christmas Day. It was tradition at that point, to break into his place of residence, find the presents, and unwrap them before the angel got up. It was something of a relief for him, this year, having dodged Apocalypse Mark Two and still have Aziraphale call him brother.

He pushed the shop door open slowly, and slipped inside before the bell could chime. He shut the door, locked it, and headed for the back room.

He pushed open the back room's door…

Only to trip a ward that had a water balloon drop directly onto his head, followed by a bag of flour. He swore, stumbled forwards, and got a faceful of glitter for his troubles. When he managed to get his eyes open and cease his swearing, it was to Aziraphale's disapproving face and a video camera aimed directly at him. "Again, Crowley?" Aziraphale asked him.

"You ruddy basssstard," Crowley spat out, and lunged at him. Aziraphale shouted in surprise, and after a brief tussle, Aziraphale was just as covered in flour and glitter as Crowley was. Crowley sniffed, and ran a hand through his hair, making it stick up worse than it already was. "I'm not cleaning thisssss up." He shook his head, sending out clouds of dry flour.

"You look rather like the ghost of Christmas Future," Aziraphale offered. Crowley spat out a mouthful of flour in a sullen response. "Anyway, you do this everything single year. Of course I booby-trapped the presents."

Crowley's snake-like eyes narrowed. "That sssssssounded like a _challenge_." Crowley drawled, grinning wickedly. With a poof, all of the flour flung itself off him and onto the floor, leaving him as clean as he walked in.

"Crowley, we're opening them at breakfast," Aziraphale warned.

Crowley only grinned wider.

Aziraphale's eyes widened. " _LUCIFER DON'T YOU DARE!_ "

"See you on the flip side, Michael!" Crowley said gleefully, and vanished. Aziraphale swore and went after him.

* * *

Crowley's first stop was at Bobby Singer's place. He shoved his sunglasses on, looked around quickly for Aziraphale, and strode to the door and knocked. Bobby answered it, looked at Crowley, and scowled. "It's _you_." Bobby said. He sounded a little mad. Crowley wondered idly why. "Why are you here?"

"I'm looking," Crowley was bouncing at this point, eager to get inside, "For my presents. Aziraphale hid them, and I _want them now._ " He blinked. Sniffed. "Is Sam here?"

"Why?" Bobby asked a little snidely. "They aren't here."

Crowley glanced around. He could feel Aziraphale, a little, lingering on the edges of the yard. He'd been here recently. He spotted the Impala, looking a little dinged up but none the worse for wear. He pursed his lips. "He's inside, isn't he? No matter- you're very tall, did you know that?"

Sam Winchester, Lucifer's vessel, crossed his arms.

Crowley, occasionally known as Lucifer, waved a little awkwardly.

"You aren't drunk are you?" Sam asked suspiciously.

"I _wasn_ 't drunk," Crowley replied, offended, "I was reassuring you that you _aren_ ' _t_ my type, no matter what anyone else says.

"Sure," Sam said. Somehow, he was suddenly looming over Crowley. "Would you mind explaining that?"

"Would you look at the time, I gotta go," Crowley said hastily, and attempted to vanish before Sam grabbed him by the shirt collar. Crowley flailed.

"Oh, no you don't," Sam said, and started to drag him inside.

Crowley looked at Sam blankly, before grinning wildly with a touch of desperation and _shifted_. Now a snake and on the ground, Crowley shifted back into a human, and vanished without so much as a goodbye. He reappeared on the roof, adjusting his collar with a sniff, and started to look for the gifts. He could feel them, hovering _just out of reach_ …

He tripped another ward and yelped as he got glitter blasted at his face.

" _Breakfast_ , bless you," Aziraphale fairly snarled, and grabbed his ear. Crowley yelped, and tried to break his hold, only for Aziraphale to twist his ear and bring him back to his shop. (1)

* * *

1\. Having adult angel fly another adult angel was a very awkward way to travel. Mostly for the second angel, as the first would literally have to drag them to that location. It's also usually very humiliating, as it suggests that the second angel doesn't know how to navigate.

* * *

For breakfast, Crowley had an Irish Coffee that was more whiskey than coffee, while Aziraphale contented himself with toast. Crowley, despite numerous attempts, couldn't get the glitter off his suit, and contented himself with instead turning it hot pink. He claimed it made his wings pop. Aziraphale refrained from pointing out that he was the only to see his wings, and there wasn't anyone that Crowley could show him off too.

"Are you happy yet?" Crowley demanded.

"You haven't eaten anything yet,'" Aziraphale said placidly. Crowley, calmly, met Aziraphale's eyes and withdrew a live mouth from his pocket. He slowly unhinged his mouth and let it fall open, and started to lower the struggling mouse inside. "Fine! We can open the presents now," Aziraphale said, and Crowley withdrew the mouse from his jaws and put it back into his pocket, "Don't go about murdering small creatures now!"

"I'm a _demon_ , that's what we _do_." Crowley complained. Aziraphale shoved two presents at him. Crowley smirked and handed over a box to Aziraphale, before unwrapping his.

The first was a lovely, finely aged bottle of wine. He put it on the table before unwrapping the smaller one, frowning when it only revealed a small set of keys. "What is this?"

Aziraphale didn't even look at him, eyes firmly on the books. "RepairedtheBentley," he nearly spitted out, tripping over the words, " _These are all first editions._ "

"I'm not going to be seeing you for a while, am I?" Crowley asked, a little amused as Aziraphale nearly started squeeing as he read the titles.

"No you are not," Aziraphale agreed. "Merry Christmas Lucifer."

"Merry Christmas, Michael."


End file.
